My Traditional Teaching Style Story

Room 10/11 (Grill)

Senior Syndicate

CSNS

Palmerston North

12/02/15 and 13/02/15 and 15/02/15 and 16/02/15

Dear Mr Kennedy,

I am writing to you for two reasons. First, I am sharing my traditional teaching style experience with you and second of all, please tell the teachers to stop with the practical jokes. Now, for the traditional teaching style experience!

It was a normal school morning. The sun was shining, the birds were tweeting, I was walking across the quad in my normal cheery mood. Wait, let me rephrase that. It was a normal school morning for everyone else. Not for Grill though! I climbed up the stairs of the deck and mindlessly entered the classroom, expecting the normal blankness. Well, nothing is as you expect!

I stopped in my tracks, spellbound. My jaw hit the floor: WHAT had happened to the classroom? There were about 10 boring rows of desks. There were name tags on each of them. I don't think I had ever been more confused in a school morning! Why were there desks here? I thought we were decorating the classroom ourselves! It's called the Block Classroom for a reason!

"Oh no!" I thought worriedly "where on earth did they put my desk!" When I saw where I was my heart dropped to my stomach. "Great. Just great!" I muttered. WHY did I have to be at a desk next to a boy?!?! Well, everyone was next to someone of the other gender... Then, the bell rang. I didn't know what to expect.

Uh-oh. Mr Robertson and Miss Gordon walked in looking like something fresh out of a history book. About the dinosaur age. Well, not that far back; the cave people had better fashion taste. I would say about... 100 years ago. Miss Gordon was wearing a checked skirt and a cardigan that needed me to burn it. Mr Robertson was wearing a suit and tie and had fake glasses in his pocket. Ha ha ha, very funny. They'd  better not keep this joke up.

Miss Gordon stood up at a stand and took the roll. Then, we sat in silence for two minutes before the notices! What was the point in that? Then after the notices we sung the National Anthem. I didn't get it- it wasn't assembly!

After that it was spelling. Dictionary skills? What was the point in copying out words from the dictionary? It didn't make sense- how were we going to learn? Then handwriting? At least that was normal! After that we had to recite a Shakespeare poem called Macbeth. I couldn't even pronounce it! How was I going to learn Shakespeare if I couldn't pronounce the first word?

After that it was maths. Chanting and copying basic facts. What a drag! I find it pretty hard to learn when I'm bored. Then using the abacus I got given, I had to make certain numbers. I'm sorry if I can't put 50 rings on my abacus at once!

Finally, freedom: Morning tea! I wish. We ate lunch inside, in silence and we were told when to bite. How is that helping us learn? We can actually EAT by ourselves thank you very much. Afterwards, I couldn't go and play like I was planning to. Instead, I had to do fitness and marching and press-ups and boy- girl tunnels (shudder). We were meant to be at school, but instead we were at a juvenile prison. Then after that it was playtime. Organised play groups? Really?  And one hula hoop between 8 of us, can you say ridiculous?!?!

We were the only classroom that was doing it and everyone else was either pointing and laughing, mimicking us, giving us confused looks, thinking we were in trouble or all of the above.

It was really really really badly embarrassing.

After morning tea, we were all sneaking bites of our lunch because we were told not to finish it but we were all so hungry. Then we were told to do a PMI about our experience. Let's just say, there weren't many positives. During that, Mr Robertson and Miss Gordon came in wearing normal clothes. Everyone cheered and shouted and jumped up and down. They told us it was all a joke! Well, a joke with some use because they were showing us the opposite of what they wanted. They wanted us to manage our own learning, instead of being told what to do, when to do it, and how to do it.

But in conclusion, it was the worst school block of my life and for future student's expense, please tell the teachers to stop with the practical jokes!

Kind Regards,

Olivia Goodman